Page 21 of I Need You Tonight
“Have you ever had your heart broken?”
“In a way, I guess. But in my case it wasn’t a boyfriend who broke my heart. It was my father. He used to be a gambler. He almost destroyed my family.” A familiar sadness rolled over her, one I had witnessed with my family in the beginning, when I first struggled with my addiction.
That rusty nail in my gut felt like it had been upgraded to a blunt knife stabbing me repeatedly. I didn’t say anything, though. And I did my best to keep off my face any emotion that would betray the truth.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Zack never told me.” But it did explain why he had been so adamant about helping me when my gambling addiction pulled me down and almost killed me. “What happened?”
“We were living in Vegas at the time. And as far as we knew, he was just gambling occasionally, nothing more than that. Then one day Zack and I overheard our parents arguing. My father had gambled away the money they had saved for Zack’s and my college education. Not only that, they didn’t have the money to pay the mortgage that month. My mom borrowed some from my grandparents, and my father promised that he was done with gambling and wouldn’t screw up again.”
“But he did?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“That’s right. The lure was too strong. My mom begged him to get help. At first he agreed to do it. Later she discovered he never called Gamblers Anonymous. That was just another of his lies. She discovered how deeply in debt we were because of his addiction, and that because they were married she was legally responsible for his debts. She divorced him soon afterward and moved to L.A., where my grandparents live.
“She worked hard to give Zack and me the life she felt we deserved. She wanted to make up for everything. She worked long hours, making sure we had a roof over our heads, clothing, and food. She refused to date—she didn’t have time, and after what my father did to her, she didn’t trust men. She was afraid of ending up with another man like him. She kept telling Zack and me that we meant everything to her. That we were all she needed to be happy.
“She died of cancer several years ago, but before she died, she apologized for all the pain she had caused me and Zack because she hadn’t walked away from my father sooner.”
Each of her words twisted the knife a little more. Her father had been a lot like me.
“And that’s why you’re only interested in marrying a professional?” I asked.
“That’s right. My father was a mechanic. He never earned enough from his job to pay the bills, so he was easily lured into the gambling lifestyle.”
“There are plenty of professionals who get caught up in that lifestyle too. It has nothing to do with income.” I should know. I’d met plenty of them as they were dragged down into the same fiery pits of hell I’d eventually found myself in. Income, race, gender—none of it mattered. Gambling was an equal-opportunity addiction.
Her lips curved down at this revelation, and the itch to kiss her was too strong to ignore. I leaned closer and brushed my mouth against hers. Her sweet taste encouraged me to lightly run the tip of my tongue against the seam of her mouth. Her lips immediately parted and I plunged my tongue into her warmth.
I craved to make her forget everything her father had done to her. And maybe part of me just longed to forget everything I had done to my family.
Our kiss lasted no longer than a minute, during which I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t tell her the truth about my past. In the last few hours I’d had more fun with her than I’d had in…well, I couldn’t remember. I didn’t want the man I used to be to tarnish our limited time together.
“Our ice cream’s melting,” Nicole said, smiling once more. She licked hers. “By the way, your maple walnut tastes delicious.”
I barked a laugh. “Sorry, my brain just went into the gutter.” And it was thoroughly appreciating the view there.
A light blush swept across her cheeks, and damn, did it look hot on her. I chuckled at her reaction. “So what else is on your list of qualifications for this so-called perfect guy?”
“Other than being a professional, he has to have a steady job, no bad habits. You know, like gambling. His life can’t revolve around his job. I don’t want to be an afterthought. He has to be kind, sweet, have a good sense of humor, be honest.” Her gaze dropped to my forearm. “And he can’t have any tattoos or piercings.” She mumbled the last part, as if embarrassed to say it.
“So we can safely say I’m not on your list of perfect guys.” I playfully nudged her shoulder with mine.
She nudged me back. “I guess not. I mean, other than the part about being sweet and kind and honest and having a good sense of humor. And I have no idea if you have any bad habits.” She paused, as if considering this for a moment. “Do you have any I should know about?”
“Nope. None at all.” And that lie just erased the honesty vote.
The heat of the day made it necessary to stop talking for a few minutes while we finished our ice cream before it melted. What I really wanted to do was go back to kissing her. With just that one, I had already become addicted to her kisses.
But unlike with my previous addictions, there was no rehab center that could help me kick this habit. I’d have to go cold turkey—starting now.
“If you have something you need to do,” I said after popping the last piece of waffle cone in my mouth, “you can just drop me off at the music store. I’ll find my way back to your place afterward.”
“No, I don’t mind. I would love to watch you in action.” She bit into her cone.
“Well, technically, you won’t be seeing me in action. For that, you’d have to watch me in all my glory during a concert.”
“I guess that until that day happens, seeing you give some tips to a sixteen-year-old will have to do.”
A small warmth tickled me down to my bones that she wanted to watch me share a drumming pointer or two with the girl. Nicole could be doing something else, but she chose to hang around and watch me instead.
Once it was time to head to the music store, I pushed myself to my feet and held out my hand to help Nicole up. I must have pulled her arm with more strength and enthusiasm than I’d expected, because she took a staggering step forward and her body crashed into mine. My arms automatically went around her waist.
And Christ, did she feel good wrapped in my arms—like she belonged there.
